


i can't be a love bank

by thunderylee



Category: NewS (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationship, Canon Universe, M/M, Masturbation, gay porn, nakamasu bromance, singing while giving head, smut with substance, tegomasu history
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 06:21:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18632578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Tegoshi lends Massu a Morning Musume concert.





	i can't be a love bank

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by a real listener mail on tegomasu no radio a while back and tegoshi outing himself as a morning musume fanboy. title from the momusu song are you happy, which sounds better in japanese「愛の銀行なんて出来ない」.

“Check out this concert,” he said.

“You’ll really like their costumes,” he said.

“You don’t want to be the kind of man who doesn’t support female artists, do you?” he accused.

The last one was a low blow, but Shige _has_ been getting on all of their cases lately about lifting up women in the music industry—figuratively, that is. Massu had narrowed his eyes and claimed he didn’t need a lecture on feminism from Tegoshi of all people, but the bane of his existence for the past half of his life had just smiled brightly and pushed the Blu-ray case further into Massu’s lap.

It’s not like Massu had never heard of Morning Musume; he just hasn’t seen any of their concerts. Which, in Tegoshi’s not-so-humble opinion, was sacrilegious. Inevitably, Massu decides that this isn’t a battle worth fighting and slips the case into his bag, promising to watch it next week when there’s a break in their concert tour.

Tegoshi grins like the Cheshire cat for the rest of the day, but Massu ignores him. Koyama keeps gushing about how cute and talented the girls are, having been subjected to most of Tegoshi’s fanboying over the years, and Shige’s just happy that nobody’s saying anything inappropriate (where he can hear it).

Busy with concerts and his usual business, Massu forgets all about girl groups until he’s unpacking and finds the Blu-ray case wrapped in his practice clothes. He considers his schedule and realizes that tonight would be the best night to watch it—they may have a break between concerts, but he still has his regular work and an overdue weekend getaway with Nakamaru to celebrate the end of his stage play.

Just for fun, Massu opens up the messaging app on his phone and clicks on the second entry. _Wanna come over and watch a Morning Musume concert_ _?_

It takes two minutes to get a response, and Massu laughs out loud at the awkward face emoji and: _Hard pass. Why are you watching a Morning Musume concert?_

Good question. Massu’s not legally bound to his promises, especially since the ones he gives Tegoshi are usually just to shut him up. _Feminism_ , he answers evasively, earning another one of those awkward face emojis and chuckling to himself at his best friend’s avoidance of women.

After starting a load of laundry and cleaning up a bit, Massu pours himself a beer and settles in front of his TV. The cover photo looks cool enough, but the disc inside is kind of suspect. What kind of concert doesn’t have any art on the actual disc? For all of Tegoshi’s big talk of supporting female artists, Massu wouldn’t put it past him to buy a bootleg, or even make one himself. The case looks legit, though.

Shrugging, he pops the disc into his Blu-ray player and waits for it to load. He takes a sip of his beer and instantly chokes on it when a _porn_ menu flashes on the screen. Fucking Tegoshi. Massu should have known better—they had _just_ talked about this happening to a listener on their radio show. It’s just like Tegoshi to turn something like that into a prank, and it’s just like Massu to fall for it.

After his initial shock, he notices exactly what _kind_ of porn it is, finding irony in a Blu-ray case displaying only girls containing a disc with absolutely none. Two young men flash brilliant smiles next to the menu options, thankfully dressed (albeit in high school uniforms—Tegoshi’s fetish transcends gender, it seems), and Massu notices that adult video actors look a lot like idols. If he didn’t know any better, and the movie wasn’t called _Get It In!_ , this could just as easily be the menu for an idol duo concert.

Massu cringes as he recalls _why_ that is. A million years ago, back when KAT-TUN was six, there were these Coat West actors who marketed themselves by imitating Kamenashi and Akanishi. Massu had ignored it at the time, much like he ignores most things having to do with sex and relationships, but now it occurs to him whom these two particular men could be AV versions of. He stares in morbid fascination as one of them grins over at the other, who looks to all the world like his life is so much harder just because this guy is next to him.

They’re even bleached blond and bright red-haired, for fuck’s sake.

His first instinct is to call Tegoshi, because there aren’t enough rage face emojis in the iPhone library to properly convey the feelings that would undoubtedly come out in his voice, but he takes a minute to collect himself. Nothing good comes from letting anger speak for you. Massu tries to figure out _why_ he’s mad, because in all honesty it’s a great prank and he’d probably laugh if it happened to someone else. (Not the listener who had received it from her male coworker though. That was just fucked up.)

By the time he’s drained his beer, he’s determined that he’s mad because Tegoshi had porn-bombed him without warning, except that there isn’t anything remotely inappropriate on the menu. It’s not like there’s a reel of multi-angled buttsex looping in the background or anything. Japanese male/male porn is mainly made for fujoshi who want a _story_ or some kind of emotional build-up before they get down to business. Or so Massu has heard.

No, Massu’s mad because the actors could be himself and Tegoshi, and he doesn’t want to think about being like that with that guy. It’s difficult to be in Tegoshi’s presence for five minutes without considering taking him to bed, and Massu has worked with him for over fifteen years. Regardless of what may or may not have happened when they were horny teenagers sharing a hotel room, they’re both grown now and Massu has become desensitized enough to turn up his nose whenever Tegoshi turns on the charm.

Unfortunately, that seems to be the plot of the movie. Against his better judgment, Massu hits the play button and settles back with two more beers because he’s going to need them. To his horror and lowkey pleasure, the blond keeps vying for the redhead’s attention while the redhead is intent on ignoring him.

Massu gets some dubious consent vibes when the redhead keeps shrugging off the advances and the blond doesn’t back off, but the blond’s smirking like he knows a secret and Massu finds out real quick that the redhead gets aroused when he’s angry. Conveniently, there’s a couch nearby, and the blond is content to lie there while the redhead accosts him.

Hands tug at clothes while tongues don’t bother staying in closed mouths, and all Massu can think is that he’s definitely a better kisser than this. The redhead isn’t mad anymore (coincidentally, neither is Massu), flashing a smile along with his intense stare when he pulls back to grab the strategically placed bottle of lube.

Fuck it. It’s not like Tegoshi’s gonna know that he watched it, nor that Massu’s hand has relocated between his legs. He’s no stranger to porn, though he’s not really watching it that much after he gives into his urge to palm himself to full hardness. He makes it until the blond drops to his knees before he shoves his hand underneath the waistband of his pants and touches himself directly.

His tipsy brain has no shame or reason and it’s entirely too easy to imagine Tegoshi in the blond’s place, staring up at him as he sucks Massu’s cock past his pretty lips. Tegoshi had once told Koyama that he likes to hum NEWS songs while giving head, and Massu squirms at the thought of feeling those vibrations around his length. At least Tegoshi wouldn’t be able to talk with a dick in his mouth.

Since it’s porn, the redhead can stay hard even with the blond bobbing up and down on his cock, while Massu’s struggling to steady his pace so it’s not over before they even get started. Despite being a man with perfectly balanced hormones, Massu doesn’t do this terribly often, and when he does it’s usually an inconvenience. He can’t remember the last time he’d jerked off without racing for the finish like it was a hassle he wanted to get over with as soon as possible.

The alcohol helps, both his stamina and his wholehearted acceptance of the situation, particularly his inclusion of the aforementioned bane of his existence who now moonlights as the star of his fantasy. On the TV, the redhead pulls the blond off of him and lays him down on the couch, stroking his cock and smirking down at him before he coats his hand in lube. Massu doesn’t think he’s the type to be cocky during sex, but who knows—maybe Tegoshi would bring out that side of him.

Literally nothing in the entire world could have prepared Massu for the melodic moans that sound from the blond’s lungs as he’s finger-banged by the redhead. Thanks to “Bambina” and “I’m Coming,” not to mention a few ancient memories Massu hasn’t yet managed to bleach out of his brain, Massu is well aware of what kind of noises Tegoshi makes in bed, and this actor is _nailing_ them.

Massu’s not going to make it. He’s sweating, chest heaving and breath panting as he uses all of his energy to hold back. Sex is such a conundrum in and of itself—you really want to come, but you also want to make it last. Massu’s body trembles with desperate need, his free hand firm on his other wrist to regulate his movements, and he chokes out a moan of his own as he denies himself release.

Then the men on his TV are fucking and all bets are off. Massu spares a thought to the unlikelihood that he and Tegoshi would do it face to face, in the universe where they did it to begin with. Massu wishes he didn’t know that Tegoshi’s favorite position is cowboy, but since he does, the vision behind his eyes adjusts to where Massu’s the one lying on the couch, Tegoshi straddling his waist and riding him hard and fast.

Massu doesn’t get much further before he’s coming, shoving up his shirt at the last second to catch the release on his chest, and his heart pounds in his ears for a good minute before he can move. His mind is pleasantly blank, happy and sated with no remorse to what’s playing on his TV or whose image had just gotten him off so hard. He continues to lounge on his couch until he absolutely cannot stand the mess on his belly any longer and gets to his feet to clean up.

He runs into every corner possible and a few walls on his way down the hall, and oh right, he’s drunk. He plucks some tissues from the box on his nightstand and flops face-first onto his bed, wincing as he remembers his phone is in his front pocket. He has a message from Nakamaru asking how he’s enjoying the concert, and Massu snorts as he considers telling the truth. He wonders what a scandalized face emoji would look like.

Instead, he scrolls to Tegoshi’s name and sends off a message before he thinks better of it: _Nice concert. One of them sings just like you_.

He’ll regret it in the morning, but for right now he laughs himself to sleep. When he wakes up, reluctantly dragging himself out of bed to get to work on everything he’s been putting off in favor of their concerts, there’s no response. Nor later that night when he gets home. Nor that weekend when he and Nakamaru disappear to an onsen resort.

“What’s on your mind, Takahisa?” Nakamaru asks as they soak in the warm water, his eyes closed. “You’re unusually distracted.”

“You don’t want to know,” Massu mutters, frowning at his brain’s refusal to ignore the events from earlier that week.

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know,” Nakamaru says calmly. “Trust me, I’ve spent the past forty-five minutes wondering if I should say something or leave you to your own thoughts, and I decided whatever’s going on with you is worth disturbing my own peace.”

“Thanks a lot,” Massu teases, then sighs. “Remember how Tegoshi lent me a Morning Musume concert?”

Nakamaru makes an affirmative noise.

“It wasn’t a concert. It was an AV movie. Starring actors who could have been portraying him and me.”

“’Could have been portraying’?” Nakamaru repeats, and Massu would be amazed at how easily his old friend was accepting this information if he wasn’t well aware that trading porn within KAT-TUN has been a tradition since before its inception. “What does that mean?”

“Like when those Coat West actors portrayed AkaKame.”

Nakamaru wrinkles his nose at the ancient pairing name. “So, they looked like you and Tegoshi?”

“Not exactly,” Massu admits. “One had bleached blond hair and the other had red hair like we used to.”

“But they didn’t _look_ like you,” Nakamaru reiterated.

“They acted like us!” Massu hisses, casting a glare over to his best friend whose eyes were still blissfully shut. “The blond kept annoying the redhead until the redhead snapped and fucked him into the couch.”

Nakamaru’s grunt of acknowledgment is just as calm as it was before, and Massu wants to strangle him a little for being so nonchalant about this. “So, basically ten years ago.”

Massu almost bangs his head on the side of the bath as he groans in frustration. “I don’t want to remember that!”

“Why did you watch it?” Nakamaru asks, and now the bastard opens his eyes in time to see Massu flinch at the question. “Clearly, you wanted to see what happened, but _why_?”

Even the pleasant scent of the onsen can’t relax Massu right now, but he takes a deep breath anyway. “I don’t know. I was drinking. I felt like watching it.”

“Okay, then why do you think Tegoshi gave it to you?”

“As a prank.” Massu launches into the explanation of the radio show they had recorded weeks ago. “The listener asked us what we would do if it happened to us, and we were both more fixated on _why_ he had sent her an AV to begin with.”

Nakamaru’s face takes on an expression of disgust. “That’s fucked up.”

“That’s what I said.”

“So, that’s why he gave you an AV movie disguised as a concert, but why did he send _this_ particular one?”

“I don’t know,” Massu answers, suddenly uncomfortable in the most comfortable place in the world. “Maybe he thought it was funny. I don’t understand his humor.”

“Or...” Nakamaru prompts, and when Massu doesn’t bite, he rolls his eyes and sighs like _this_ is the reason his life is hard. “ _Or_ he remembers it too.”

“There’s no way,” Massu dismisses that thought immediately. “He has sex friends everywhere. Every place we go, he’s got someone to ‘meet up with’, complete with waggly eyebrows and this ridiculous wink sequence that he and Koyama made up.”

“That doesn’t mean he forgot about his first love,” Nakamaru points out.

“What did either of us even know about that kind of stuff back then?!” Massu exclaims, upsetting the water a little as he struggles to keep his voice down. “We were fucking teenagers. Stupid ones.”

“What is your ideal outcome here?” Nakamaru asks, and Massu gives him a questioning look. “Do you just want to return the movie and pretend it never happened, or —”

“Don’t even say it.”

“—do you want to confront him about it and tell him off?”

Massu visibly deflates. “That is not what I thought you were going to say.”

“Well, I suppose you could fuck him into the couch too, but that wouldn’t really solve anything.”

Massu’s next groan echoes off the tile walls, and he casts an apologetic nod toward the other men at the other end of the bath. “I want to confront him about it and tell him off, but that was pretty much the plot of the movie.”

“Ah.” Nakamaru nods to himself, and Massu swallows back the rare urge to punch this guy in his big nose. “I don’t think that would be the worst idea ever.”

“Yuichi!”

“I have _never_ seen you like this,” Nakamaru goes on, and Massu frowns as he realizes the truth of those words. “Not with Keiko, not with Kame, not even with me. Every other time, you’ve just accepted your feelings and moved forward with whatever happens. What makes Tegoshi so different?”

“He’s—” Massu starts, falling silent as all of the adjectives swirl around in his brain, mostly synonyms for “annoying.” “His entire job is to irritate me,” he finally says. “I don’t like it when he gets under my skin.”

“Nice choice of words,” Nakamaru comments, and Massu snorts at the unintended innuendo. “I want to point out that you didn’t deny that you had any feelings for him.”

“It’s complicated,” Massu huffs, and Nakamaru gives him a knowing look. “I mean, yes, I give a shit about him, because we work together and I have to see him all the time, but he’s such a spoiled brat even at his age and I have spent _my entire career_ trying not to be attracted to him only to be thwarted whenever I least expect it.”

“There it is.” Nakamaru grins as he leans back against the edge of the bath, looking pretty pleased with himself. “I should have been a shrink.”

Massu laughs despite himself. “Okay, Nakamaru-sensei, what do I do?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Nakamaru replies sarcastically, and Massu’s about ten seconds away from splashing him, onsen etiquette be damned. “ _Talk to him about it_.”

Massu scoffs. “Right. ‘Hey, Tegoshi, your AV movie made me remember how much I hate being attracted to you and getting off to your stupid moans’.”

“I did not need all of that information, but maybe he does.” Nakamaru shrugs. “You have to do something, Takahisa. Anger doesn’t suit you.”

“It really doesn’t.”

Nakamaru doesn’t have anything to say to that, and Massu is relieved. The best part about being friends with Nakamaru is that he doesn’t harp on things—he says his piece and he’s done. Massu feels a little better having confided in someone about his long overdue angst, but it doesn’t make this frustrating attraction any easier to deal with.

It’s not much better when he meets up with the other members in Fukui. He had thought (hoped) that actually seeing Tegoshi would make it go away, because all that one has to do is open his mouth and Massu’s turned off for days, but Tegoshi’s unusually pleasant. He’s not as loud and obnoxious when there aren’t any microphones around, and he must have gotten some sleep during their break because he’s more alert and attentive than normal.

He doesn’t start laughing at Massu’s jokes, but Massu might have been concerned if he suddenly had.

He also doesn’t ask about the movie, and Massu’s not sure how to bring it up. There isn’t a lot of free time to think about it leading up to the concerts, and Massu actually forgets about it until he looks for something else in his bag and finds the Blu-ray case. Just seeing the misleading cover has him mad all over again, and this time he doesn’t stop himself from flinging open the adjoined door between his and Tegoshi’s rooms.

Tegoshi blinks up at him from where he’d been playing games on his phone, lying on his stomach on one of the beds, and Massu belatedly realizes that he’d only needed to open one door.

“Do you always leave the adjoining door open?”

“Yeah,” Tegoshi answers easily. “It’s the code, right? If you don’t want company, you close the door.”

Massu’s mind flashes back to the last time they’d had this conversation, when they were on their first tour as TegoMasu and Tegoshi had told him to leave the adjoined door open if he wanted to fool around.

“Your room doesn’t always adjoin with mine,” Massu thinks out loud.

Tegoshi grins. “No, it doesn’t. Shige keeps his door closed too. I don’t think he knows the code.”

Massu tries to blink away the thought of Tegoshi and Shige together like that. “What about Koyama?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to,” Tegoshi says evasively. “What can I do for you, Massu?”

“You can take your _porn_ back,” Massu hisses, flinging the Blu-ray case in Tegoshi’s general direction, except that his aim sucks and he hits the side of the _other_ bed instead.

Tegoshi stares at him for a beat, then peers over the edge of the bed to look at the cover of the case and bursts out laughing. “Oh, I forgot about that!”

“You would,” Massu mutters under his breath. “Didn’t you get my message?”

“Yes?” Tegoshi scrolls through his phone until he finds what he’s looking for. “Ah, I was out when you sent this. I meant to reply but I forgot. I’m sorry! Are you mad?”

“Yes, I am,” Massu answers, and he can tell that Tegoshi didn’t expect that reaction because he drops his phone and bites his bottom lip. “Why do you have porn with two guys who look like us?”

“They...what?” Tegoshi scrambles for the Blu-ray case, then frowns when there’s no information on the disc. “Damn, my gaming laptop doesn’t play Blu-rays. I thought I gave you the schoolboy tsundere one.”

“You did,” Massu tells him. “They look like us.”

Tegoshi shakes his head in confusion, then his face lights up. “You watched it?!”

“Of course I did,” Massu replies, trying to sound nonchalant. “I like porn.”

“Valid reason.” Tegoshi nods, then returns to that thoughtful face. “I remember them having similar hair colors, but that’s it. I never thought they _looked_ like us. We’re not famous enough to have AV doppelgangers.”

“Let’s hope we never are,” Massu mumbles, and Tegoshi laughs. “You seriously didn’t give that to me because it reminded you of us?”

“Maybe...subconsciously?” Tegoshi tilts his head in thought, and Massu admires how honest this one can be about something anyone else would find shameful. “Now that you mention it, the dynamic is kinda like us. Only I don’t push you nearly that far. I know better.”

Massu hrmphs. He’s not mad anymore, and he realizes with a brief ray of hope that this could be the end of it. He could bid Tegoshi good night and they never have to talk about it again. He’ll get over his unwanted attraction, just like all of the other times, and build his tolerance back up to where he doesn’t even notice it anymore.

Or he could take Nakamaru’s advice.

“I...I liked watching it like that,” he admits, his face heating up as he forces himself to meet Tegoshi’s curious eyes. “Thinking it was us.”

“Yeah?” Tegoshi asks, and Massu nods. His face goes through a series of conflicted expressions, finally deciding on a small smile. “It’s nice to know you still think about me like that. I thought you’d banished it from your memory.”

“I tried,” Massu says. “It didn’t work.”

Tegoshi laughs again, and Massu even cracks a smile. “So...do you want to sit over here with me, and we can talk about it some more?”

“If I get any closer to you, we won’t be talking,” Massu answers firmly, and Tegoshi raises an eyebrow. “I’m not nineteen anymore, Yuuya. And I think we’ve already determined that I’m not great at holding back when it comes to you.”

“I don’t see how anything you just said is supposed to make me change my mind,” Tegoshi says. “I’m not eighteen anymore either, and I _definitely_ don’t want you to hold back. If you come closer, I’m not going to stop whatever happens.”

Massu directs his eyes to the ground in an attempt to contain himself, no longer capable of looking Tegoshi in the eye without giving in to such blanket consent. Something like anger starts to swell within him, and he belatedly realizes it’s arousal. He’s not mad at all—he might not have been to begin with.

“Do you need me to ease you into it?” Tegoshi asks, and Massu scoffs until he hears Tegoshi get to his feet and slowly walk toward him. “I won’t push you, but if you want me to rile you up until you snap, I will.”

“No,” Massu says firmly, shaking his head. Now Tegoshi is right in front of him, close enough to touch, and Massu reaches a hand out to brush against Tegoshi’s, the mere contact equivalent to an electric shock.

“Damn,” Tegoshi says, his voice barely a whisper, and Massu finally looks up to find those soft brown eyes regarding him in amazement. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Okay,” Massu agrees, and the next second has Tegoshi’s lips against his, small hands cradling both sides of his jaw, and Massu has both arms wrapped around Tegoshi before he realizes it, returning the kiss with everything he has.

Tegoshi gasps as Massu takes over, a mewl tingling Massu’s tongue that he belatedly realizes has made its way into Tegoshi’s mouth. If Tegoshi has any protest, he’s doing a bad job of voicing it with the way he easily accepts Massu manhandling him the short distance to the bed, his limbs coiling around Massu’s body as they become horizontal.

“Mm, Takahisa,” Tegoshi says when they take a second to catch their breaths. “I forgot how fucking _hot_ you are when you’re worked up.”

“You’re using my full name,” Massu notices, pressing the words into Tegoshi’s throat and neck because he can’t actually pull away long enough to speak properly.

“You said there was no point in your parents giving you a name if people weren’t going to use it,” Tegoshi says, and something more than lust burns in Massu’s chest. “I like the way it feels rolling off my tongue.”

Only Tegoshi could make saying someone’s name a filthy experience, but Massu doesn’t mind one bit. Tegoshi may be pinned to the bed right now, but that doesn’t mean he’s staying still—his hands are all over Massu’s torso, adding more heat to the skin that’s already burning up under his thermal shirt. Massu makes it until Tegoshi’s first moan before he reaches back to pull the garment over his head and carefully folds it on the other side of the bed.

“I forgot how much you overheat too,” Tegoshi whispers gently, sounding apologetic for one of the first times in Massu’s memory, and he makes up for it by dropping both hands to Massu’s fly. “Honestly, I forgot most of what it was like to be with you this way. Like, I remember everything that happened, but not how it _felt_.”

“Me too,” Massu admits. He breathes a sigh of relief when Tegoshi shoves off his shorts, leaving him only in his boxer-briefs while Tegoshi’s still fully dressed. “I’m sorry, I’m not thinking clearly.”

“That’s good, right?” Tegoshi asks, turning his head to seek out Massu’s lips with his own. “It’ll be like our first time all over again.”

It’s strangely romantic, and the part of Massu that uses comedy as a defense mechanism wants to point out that this will undoubtedly be better than two teenagers trying to figure out where everything goes, but all he does is lean into Tegoshi’s alluring kiss and get to work relieving him of his clothes.

Tegoshi just lies there and lets him, and Massu’s about to tease him for being a lazy lay until he focuses enough to see the absolute look of adoration on his face. “What?” he asks.

“You really want me,” Tegoshi says incredulously, arching beneath Massu’s touch now that they’re skin to skin. “I mean, I knew you wanted to fuck, but you actually want to fuck _me_.”

“Is there a difference?” Massu huffs in mild annoyance, the conversation a distraction from the task at hand, which is currently (re)discovering what spots on Tegoshi’s chest and hips make him writhe and shudder.

“Yeah, there is,” Tegoshi insists, and he must be tired of talking too because he just sighs and pulls Massu back into his mouth. “I’ll tell you later.”

Massu’s fine with this development, his brain shutting off as his body takes over. He drifts his fingers up and down Tegoshi’s abdomen a few times, just to feel more of those gasps against his tongue. Tegoshi’s hand is shaking as it fumbles around between them, making a few near-misses before curling around Massu’s erection, and now Massu’s the one moaning into Tegoshi’s mouth as he finally gets friction.

“God, I love your voice,” Tegoshi gets out between kisses, and Massu’s world turns upside-down as Tegoshi rolls them over and straddles his lap. “I’m gonna ride you just like this.”

“First, will you...” Massu starts, and Tegoshi tilts his head expectantly. “Will you put it in your mouth?”

“You’re adorable,” Tegoshi says, and Massu narrows his eyes at being patronized _during sex_. “Of course I will. But don’t you dare finish.”

“I won’t,” Massu agrees, though it turns out to be a rather tough challenge once Tegoshi has kissed his way down Massu’s chest. Massu’s breath catches in his throat as Tegoshi licks up and down the length of his cock and everything inside him wants to throw his head back and give in to the sensations, but he can’t bring himself to look away from Tegoshi who’s staring up at him through a fringe of pink bangs as he slowly lowers his open mouth.

He’d known it was coming, but he couldn’t have prepared himself for how it would feel to have Tegoshi _humming_ all around his length. It’s something with a slow tempo that Massu can’t quite place, maybe a TegoMasu ballad in honor of the pair of them reuniting like this, but then Massu recognizes the music box melody from the many (failed) Quartetto MCs and almost bursts out laughing.

“Ai Kotoba?”

He’s rewarded by Tegoshi taking him _all_ the way in, moving up and down just fast enough to drive Massu even crazier with want, and Massu makes it through the bridge before grabbing for Tegoshi’s shoulders with what little control he isn’t using to keep from coming down his throat.

Tegoshi gives him a smug face as he pulls off, returning to his previous position straddling Massu’s lap. Massu must be giving him an interesting look, because he laughs and leans down for a kiss. “I gave you what you want, now give me what I want,” he says clearly.

Massu doesn’t reply, just reaches over for his shorts and pulls out two items that have Tegoshi giving him an amused look. Before Tegoshi can make fun of him for being prepared for sex on tour, Massu pops the cap and starts coating three of his fingers with lube, staring Tegoshi hard in the eyes the whole time.

“You’re going to do it?!” Tegoshi asks, all amusement gone from his face as he nearly chokes on his sharp inhale. “You never wanted to do it before.”

“I want to now,” Massu says simply, and Tegoshi gives a dazed nod.

They hold eye contact for as long as it takes Massu to make his way between Tegoshi’s legs, the head of pink hair falling forward at the first touch of Massu’s slick fingertip. Massu pokes around until he finds what he’s looking for, gently teasing the twitching muscle while Tegoshi whimpers into his shoulder, hips automatically pushing back for more.

“I want to hear you,” he says without thinking as he pushes in one finger to the knuckle. “It got me off so hard, listening to the blond guy in that movie moan and imagining it was you.”

“Takahisa,” Tegoshi gasps, and it sounds even better when Massu’s stretching him open. “I’ll be loud for you, if you earn it.”

Massu jabs in the rest of his finger in response, Tegoshi’s next moan more vocal and unhinged. “If you insist on saying my name like that, I’m gonna make you scream it.”

“Yeah,” Tegoshi agrees, though he seems distracted with the way he’s clinging to Massu’s torso and rocking back toward Massu’s invasive touch. He’s ready for another finger, which Massu slowly presses in along with the first, and the shrill noise that spills from Tegoshi’s lips has Massu thrusting up toward nothing.

Tegoshi’s losing his rhythm on Massu’s cock and that’s probably a good thing, tugging just hard enough to leave wanting more, Massu's fingering getting a bit rough until Tegoshi jerks and squeals against him.

“Sorry,” he musters, quickly returning to a slow, gentle pace, but Tegoshi’s shaking his head hard enough for sweat to fly from his hair.

“Do that again,” he says in this raspy voice that has Massu blindly following orders, finger-banging him so hard that he’s bouncing from the force. “ _Fuck_ , I want you so bad.”

“You’re not ready,” Massu says firmly as he slips in a third finger. “And I need to put on a condom.”

“Of course you do,” Tegoshi says in this sweet, condescending voice that has Massu wanting to punch him in the face until Tegoshi reaches for the condom and starts to roll it on. It takes him a few tries, preoccupied by Massu’s fingers touching him deep inside, and Massu’s about to do it himself one-handed until Tegoshi manages to get it on.

His eyes roll back into his head when Tegoshi lubes him up, squeezing more than necessary and smirking when Massu directs a glare at him. “I can roll us back over, you know,” Massu threatens.

“I know you can,” Tegoshi whispers, leaning down to brush his lips against Massu’s. “But you won’t.”

Before Massu can prove him wrong, Tegoshi guides his hand out of the way and sinks down onto Massu’s cock, both of them hissing at the pressure. Whatever frustration Massu may have had channels into lust, both hands firmly locked on Tegoshi’s hips as he gets settled. His eyes are closed, but he’s very aware of Tegoshi on top of him, little moans slipping out with each exhale as Massu struggles not to thrust up into the tight muscles surrounding him.

“Your face is ridiculous right now,” Tegoshi says, his voice all air, and Massu’s about to start moving in retaliation until he goes on, “Thank you for waiting for me to be comfortable.”

It’s so polite and un-Tegoshi-like that Massu can’t wrap his mind around it, what’s left of his mind anyway. Instead, he lifts his hands up Tegoshi’s sides, guiding him down enough to embrace him. Tegoshi makes a soft noise and starts to rock back and forth, pulling a low groan from Massu’s lungs as Massu bends his knees to get deeper.

“I can’t ride you like this,” Tegoshi points out, a hint of teasing in his tone that Massu ignores in favor of how amazing he feels inside and out. “It’s nice to be close to you though.”

Massu’s not even going to try and unpack that statement, more concerned about the speed of his thrusts and the trembling mass in his arms. He doesn’t want to go too fast, because then it will be over, but he wants to feel more—the same conundrum as before. Tegoshi doesn’t seem to be rushing, even if he doesn’t have nearly as much control as he would have if he were upright. They’re both content to move languidly together, easily finding a rhythm that has Massu burying himself all the way every time.

Tegoshi moans with each thrust, taking Massu even higher until all he knows is Tegoshi and sex. In that order, his mind and maybe his heart latching onto _who_ is on top of him, _whom_ he’s touching so deeply, the entity that’s connected to him and not just the body. Tegoshi had been right—this is about _him_ , not just getting laid, and while Massu’s brain may not want to recognize it as fact, everything within him is already showing it.

“Touch me,” Tegoshi says, and Massu’s so grateful to have his thoughts interrupted that he instantly complies. “Takahisa, you feel so good. _This_ feels so good. I’m gonna come so hard, oh my god.”

Massu makes an approving noise as his body reacts on its own, his hand firmly squeezing Tegoshi’s cock as he strokes from base to tip, his whole attention on the moans that gradually grow more insistent in his ear. Tegoshi starts to falter in their perfectly symmetrical movements and Massu doesn’t waste time gripping Tegoshi’s hip with his free hand, pushing him down in contrast with his even sharper thrusts upward until Tegoshi’s thrashing on top of him.

It has Massu reaching his own peak faster, a series of grunts escaping his lungs as he struggles to get Tegoshi off and hold himself back at the same time. “Yuuya...” he says, his voice coming out desperate, and he doesn’t have it in him to be ashamed.

“Come with me,” Tegoshi rasps, leaning forward enough for Massu to feel hot breath on his collarbones. “I’m almost there. Please don’t stop.”

Massu wouldn’t dream of stopping, especially when the body on top of him starts jerking particularly roughly, almost convulsing. He feels Tegoshi’s cock spurt in his hand, but all he knows is the loud cry of his given name as he gives in to his own release. The next couple seconds have him floating far above what can be considered mortal coherence, and all he can do is hold onto Tegoshi as he slowly comes back down to earth.

The first thing he notices is how Tegoshi’s gasping for air, and it worries him enough to pry his eyes open and force his voice to work. “Hey, are you okay?”

Tegoshi’s laugh does nothing to help him catch his breath, but it eases Massu considerably. “That was intense,” Tegoshi gets out. “I haven’t...I mean, I’ve been with a lot of people, and—”

“Don’t,” Massu cuts him off, and Tegoshi actually looks relieved to not have to finish his thought. “I know what you’re going to say, and I’m not ready to hear it yet. Let’s just enjoy this feeling for a little while longer before we have to go back to the real world, okay?”

Tegoshi’s smile has his heart feeling big and warm. “This _is_ the real world, Takahisa,” is all he says as he curls up on top of Massu, wet spot be damned.

Massu’s entire body still tingles when he reluctantly drags himself out of Tegoshi’s bed and retreats to his own shower. Sleeping together is only cute in fiction, when they don’t have two concerts the next day and when it’s not with someone who takes up the entire bed regardless of who else is in there with him.

_I did it_ , he messages Nakamaru, because this is all his fault. At least that’s what Massu’s telling himself. _I fucked Tegoshi_.

_TMI_ , Nakamaru replies with a cringing emoji, and Massu laughs out loud. _Are you happy?_

Massu thinks about that. It’s no coincidence that his friend had chosen the word “happy” instead of something more relevant to the situation like “satisfied,” “relieved,” or even “freaked out.” Happiness is usually Massu’s default, and Nakamaru’s best-friend logic dictates that as long as Massu is happy, everything is as it should be. No matter what other emotions litter his mind.

_Yeah, I am_.

Naturally, Tegoshi is all pouts the next morning when they congregate at the venue to rehearse, but Massu knows it’s not serious. He’s also not that bothered by the merciless teasing from the other two, because Tegoshi’s not even trying to mask his lingering soreness and, even if he were, Koyama has the room on the other side of Tegoshi's.

“He’s _never_ been that loud for me,” Koyama whispers conspiratorially when he pulls Massu aside between shows. “ _Takahisa_.”

Massu just grins like he always does, because he plans on leaving his adjoining door open tonight.


End file.
